


Enhancement.

by Kitty_Kinneas



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5496032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_Kinneas/pseuds/Kitty_Kinneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky's entire world fell apart around him with the loss of his arm, only sheer stubbornness and an unwillingness to give up got him through it. How is he supposed to continue when the very arm he created to help him becomes the thing in his way? Turning to Tony Stark becomes his only answer.</p>
<p>College AU with young!everyone, though I figure Bucky to be a few years older, because he had to put college on hold originally due to his accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enhancement.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [easydrinkingenergy (coffee_king)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=easydrinkingenergy+%28coffee_king%29).



> My Winteriron Holiday Exchange for easydrinkingenergy! I hope you like it! I will probably be adding more to this in the future, as I feel there is a lot yet unresolved.

It had been hard.

 

Hard was an understatement, really. _Gruelling_ was closer or _brutal_. _Torturous._

 

_Excruciating._

 

That was probably the best word for it. When it happened, everything hurt. Of course his shoulder hurt. Well, even _shoulder_ was an understatement, because that simple noun could never cover the damage, the fierce, gnawing, tearing fire of pain that wracked what seemed his entire left side for days and months and years.

 

But when he looked back, that wasn't even what he remembered most. So much worse was the mental agony. The thought of it. Of what he'd lost - more than the arm. His future. His entire... _self_.

 

He was going to college, dammit. He had a scholarship in track and field. His favourite events were polevault and javelin, but he had his heart set on the decathalon. It wasn't just anyone who could handle the intensity of the two-day competition and he never wanted to be 'just anyone'.

 

He'd worked insanely hard to get where he was. Never drank. Rarely partied. Definitely didn't light up cigarettes or joints behind the gym like some of the others. He ate right and spent half his life training as well as keeping his grades up where they needed to be.

 

He took one weekend off. Just one. And there was still no booze or parties or drugs. Just water-skiing with some mates. And some idiot in high-speed powerboat he shouldn't even have had on that stretch of the river.

 

He didn't remember it at all, but his mates had all received weeks of counselling. His own counselling came later when depression set in as his life lay in tatters around him. The college had callously withdrawn their scholarship, making excuses about how they couldn't afford to give the spot to him if he couldn't fulfil his end of the bargain.

 

Healing took months and months and he lost all his conditioning. When they finally let him out of bed, he felt like he'd done the fifteen hundred metre run just going to take a piss and back to bed again.

 

He didn't remember what had been the tipping point. He remembered dark thoughts and a hopelessness that burrowed into his gut and wouldn't leave no matter how hard his mates and family tried to drive it away. Wouldn't leave no matter how long and deep he spoke with his counsellor. Wouldn't leave even when it started to get easier to move around and re-learn how to do things one-handed. He just remembered being sick to death of himself and what he had become.

 

But he hadn't earned that scholarship by being the kind of person who gave in, and fucked if this darkness was going to suck him completely dry.

 

So he started to train again and re-mastered every single one of the decathalon events.

 

But pole vault eluded him. He couldn't hold the pole in the first place, let alone aim it properly into the vault box or keep a hold to let it lift him from the ground and vault him over. And he tried. A lot.

 

Mostly it ended with his going off to angrily throw javelins until he felt calmer.

 

So he had come to the conclusion he couldn't vault with just one arm. Therefore, he needed two.

 

Nothing on the market pleased him. Some came close, but nothing was perfect and he reasoned the only way to make it perfect was to adjust it himself. He began to learn about electronics and engineering, especially as they pertained to prosthesis. He took several short-courses at several colleges, each one more prestigious than the last, all the while adjusting and changing his arm.

 

He'd been at MIT now for a year and a half. The contributions he made to medical prosthetics and the amount of funding he pulled from rich old people benefiting from his prosthetic heart valves or artificial knees and hips kept the college happy and they let him train with their track and field teams.

 

Training, though, wasn't enough... He wanted to compete, _needed_ it, to prove he'd beaten his injury once and for all...

 

\- - - - - - -

 

"Tony. Tony. Hey, Tony..."

 

Tony blinked out of his reverie as Rhodey waved a hand in front of his face, glancing absently at his friend. "What? Oh, sure, whatever you say, honeybear..." he said vaguely.

 

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?"

 

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but eventually had to shut it and shake his head.

 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Just... why don't you just _go and talk to him_?" he muttered. "Save us all the trouble of your damn pining."

 

"I am _not_ pining," Tony said, refusing to allow his eyes drift back across the field.

 

"Hm. Miss Potts, can we get a list of the signs of pining, please?" Rhodey said.

 

Pepper's mouth twitched. "Staring."

 

"Check."

 

"Mooning."

 

"I'm not-" Tony tried.

 

" _Check_."

 

"Daydreaming."

 

"Check."

 

"Forcing us to come out here even though it's damn near impossible to properly draw blueprints while sitting in the stands of the field."

 

"Fucking check!" Rhodey cried. "Tony. Why are we out here if not so you can stare at that Barnes character?"

 

"Not staring," Tony said, jerking his wandering gaze back again. "...at him."

 

"His arm is _part_ of him, Tony," Pepper said dryly.

 

"Well... I mean... _look_ at it..." Tony hissed, giving up on the pretence that he wasn't staring. "It's a freaking _marvel_. Do you know what he's done for medical prosthesis?"

 

"Yup," Pepper said, rolling her eyes as she turned back to their blueprints. "You've only told us about... seventy _thousand_ times..."

 

"Lies," Tony said, but the word was vague because Barnes had left off long jump and headed over to the pole vault equipment. He sat up, not even pretending to be helping Rhodey and Pepper any more.

 

Barnes pulled on the glove that kept the pole from slipping through his metal fingers and dusted the other hand with chalk powder before settling his fingers purposefully around the pole. Tony wasn't watching _him_ , not really. He watched the minute shifts and adjustments in the arm as Barnes lifted the pole, let out a long breath, and set off in that odd, high-stepping run. Watched it adjust slightly each time the pole wavered. Watched it flex and twist as Barnes set the end of the pole in the vaulting box and flew from the ground into the air and up and over the bar.

 

He almost groaned. In fact, he must have made some sort of sound because Rhodey and Pepper said in unison; "Get a room."

 

He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck, but his shrug was unrepentant. "I wish I could get my hands on it..."

 

"Well, talking to him would be a great start," Rhodey said dryly.

 

"Shut up, Rhodes." Tony stood, ostensibly to stretch but really it was so he could get a better view of Barnes rolling off the mat.

 

He wasn't going to even try and deny the man was attractive, especially dressed in his sweats and a loose-hanging singlet top, skin damp from his exertions. But there were plenty of attractive guys out there. Only Barnes had Tony's attention. It probably meant there was something wrong with him, but he didn't really care.

 

That arm was _hot_.

 

"C'mon," Pepper's voice broke into his musings and he dragged his eyes away from Barnes again. "I'm starving."

 

"Wow, I didn't think work stopped for anything less than a natural disaster," Tony said dryly.

 

"About as easily as you stop staring at Barnes," Pepper shot back as he and Rhodey stood, the latter rolling up the blueprints. "You know, we're actually supposed to get this _done_ , Tony. No more coming out here when we're supposed to be working on it."

 

Tony looked up at them, taking in their displeased expressions. "Yeah, okay. Fair call," he said sheepishly and stood to follow them from the field.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Bucky angrily hammered at some nondescript chunk of metal, forgetting what he even had planned for it. Anger simmered beneath his skin, looking for a way out and this was the best he could think of.

 

Sans punching the Dean right in his face, which wouldn't go very well, obviously. It was fun to think about, though.

 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been at it, but the lump of metal was beyond any sort of real use by the time Steve came to the workshop. No one else had dared to come in, despite the fact it wasn't as if it was a private workshop.

 

“Buck. Buck, come on. You're scaring the freshmen.”

 

Bucky sneered, tossing aside the hammer with an echoing clang. “Like I care about a few pants-wetting freshmen.”

 

“That's not fair, Buck. They were very drunk that time.”

 

Bucky snorted and tried to pretend that hadn't elicited a ghost of a smile. He rolled his shoulders and sighed, looking up as Steve put a hand to his shoulder. The one he had injured.

 

Steve was the only one who touched it so casually and Bucky couldn't put into words how grateful he was for it.

 

“He said no,” Bucky muttered finally, pushing away from his work and jerking his hand through his shaggy hair.

 

“Really? I did _not_ see that coming,” Steve said wryly, gesturing at the mutilated hunk of metal.

 

“...You know what, shut up, Rogers,” Bucky said and shoved him, but he felt a little lighter already as Steve laughed.

 

“Come on. Let's get something to eat and you can tell me the rest,” he said.

 

Bucky was silent on the matter as they ordered from the university cafeteria and Steve let him alone to work through it. Eventually, as they sat with their coffees and food, he finally muttered; “What's to tell? He said no.”

 

“The reasons?” Steve suggested.

 

Bucky shrugged. “Many and varied, all of which the basic gist is this is an enhancement.” He gestured at his metal limb.

 

Steve blinked. “An enhancement?”

 

Bucky's nod was miserable and he turned the polystyrene cup around, staring at it as he stewed on the fact of the most cataclysmic event in his entire life being referred to as 'an enhancement'. “I mean,” he said eventually. “I can... I get where he's coming from, the Dean I mean. The grip strength is... well, you've seen it.”

 

Steve nodded, mouth thinning.

 

“And it can lift more than a human arm, but what am I supposed to do about that? It's freaking _metal_ , for fuck's sake.”

 

Steve rubbed at his chin.“Fix it?” he suggested.

 

“Fix... I c... This _is_ fixed!” he snapped, jerking his flesh hand at his metal arm. “Remember when there was no arm? This is fixed!”

 

Steve watched him calmly. He waited for the irritation to pass, then; “He says it's an enhancement, so drop its weight-bearing capabilities and its grip strength.”

 

“You say that like it's easy. It's not.” Bucky held up his right hand. “This is flesh.” Then the left. “This is _metal_. It's already stronger from the get go. And I'm not... I don't... actually know much about _human_ capabilities. I'm not... that sort of engineer.”

 

“Seems a bit stupid not to be, given you made an arm,” Steve pointed out.

 

Bucky scowled at him. “I know how the brain transfers messages to the limbs and all that sort of thing. I just don't know about muscle mass and strength and so on.”

 

“So find someone who does. Find someone who knows about bio-engineering better than you. Lower the strength of the arm so the Dean can't give you that excuse again.”

 

“I'm sorry, do you know anyone majoring in bio-engineering who _isn't_ half dead under the weight of his or her own thesis project?!” Bucky snapped, probably a little loudly, he reflected, when some redheaded chick looked over.

 

“Tony Stark,” she said.

 

Bucky and Steve turned their gazes to her, stunned.

 

“Who now?” Bucky said.

 

“Well. I mean, he's not actually _majoring_ in bio-engineering, but he knows a lot about it. About everything really.”

 

“Just. Wait. Hang on. _Who_ are you?”

 

“Oh, sorry.” She stuck out her hand. “Virgina Potts. Everyone calls me Pepper.”

 

“Pepper... Potts?” Bucky said with a snigger and Steve kicked him under the table in the same moment as he reached out to take her hand, the over-polite bastard.

 

“Steven Rogers; Steve,” he said. “And this ill-mannered idiot is James Buchanan Barnes. We call him-”

 

“Bucky,” she said. “Yes, I know.”

 

“Oh, you _know_?” Bucky echoed, smirking all over his face.

 

“Down, boy,” she said dryly. “We're talking about Tony.”

 

“Right, right. Tony... um...”

 

“Stark,” Steve put in. “With the rich family, right?”

 

Pepper nodded.

 

“What would he know?” Bucky asked rudely.

 

“ _He_ is an actual, bonafide genius. Anything to do with engineering, he learns about. Just because.”

 

“Why would he help me?”

 

She pressed her lips together briefly. “Is it to do with your arm?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“He'll do it.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “One of _those_?” he groaned. “I don't know if it's worth it.”

 

Steve just arched a brow at him and waited.

 

“Okay, okay,” Bucky finally said, raising his hands. “ _Maybe_ it's worth it, but if he really is a bad _one of those_ , it won't be.”

 

“One of-” Pepper started.

 

“Some people are... fixated on Bucky's arm. And they get annoying about it,” Steven broke in.

 

“Ah. Well. He likes the arm, I won't lie. But I'm sure he can control himself.”

 

Bucky grunted, poking at his food.

 

“Come on, Buck. What have you got to lose?” Steve said.

 

Eventually, Bucky nodded. “Yeah, all right. You've got a point.”

 

They arranged to meet Tony after classes were done in one of the university's workshops. Once Pepper was gone, Bucky recommenced grumbling about the whole situation. Steve let him be.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

“You... I... He... You...” Tony stammered, hands twitching on the welder he was holding.

 

“Put that down, dear,” Pepper said. “Before you set us on fire.”

 

He hastily put the welder down and pushed his welding goggles further back into his hair. “But... but you... and he said _yes_?”

 

She nodded. “He was a bit worried, though. That you might be... one of _those_.”

 

Tony glanced at her in confusion. “One of... those?” he echoed.

 

“A fanboy, near as I can make out.”

 

“He _is_ ,” Rhodey pointed out dryly, ducking the lug nut Tony threw at him.

 

“I told Barnes you could control yourself,” she said, wagging her finger. “So you better do it.”

 

“I can't even... How am I supposed to... I can't work with _him_ ,” Tony exclaimed, pushing his hands through his mussed hair.

 

“Of course you can,” she said briskly. “You should have spoken to him ages ago.”

 

Tony groaned and thunked his head down on the workbench, lifting and dropping it a couple of times for good measure.

 

Pepper rolled her eyes and Rhodey puffed out an exasperated breath. “Maybe you shouldn't have told him,” he suggested.

 

“Then this would have happened when they got here,” she replied.

 

“True.”

 

“You have to cancel,” Tony said suddenly in the tone of a man having an epiphany as his head jerked up from the bench. “Call him up and cancel.”

 

“Can't. I didn't get his number.”

 

“Oh my gooood,” Tony moaned, dropping his head to the bench again.

 

Another roll of her eyes. “Tony, stop being so melodramatic. He's just another guy. Since when have you been shy?”

 

“I'm not _shy_...”

 

“Then what? Why are you so scared to meet him?”

 

“I'm not _scared_!”

 

She just arched her brows and he sighed. “I don't know. Okay? It's just... he's... Well, you've heard the stories about him. He's a _genius_ and a workhorse and a freaking proper _athlete,_ man.”

 

“You're a genius too,” Rhodey pointed out. “And it's not like you're unfit.”

 

“I know. I _know_. It's just... that _arm_. Just... wow.”

 

Pepper sighed and reached out to put her hand on his forearm. “You've made things just as amazing. And he won't appreciate you fawning over him just because of his arm. Just... be yourself and talk to him and I'm sure it'll be fine.”

 

He searched her eyes and let out a long sigh. Finally, he nodded. “I'll try. You're right.”

 

“Of course I am. It's me.”

 

He couldn't help but grin at her words.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Bucky had still been very reluctant, even as they were making their way to the workshop Pepper had pinpointed. It almost got to the stage where Steve was dragging him. Almost. Thankfully, he made it under his own steam and even mustered up a tight smile for Stark and his friends.

 

“Afternoon,” Steve said jovially to them, shaking each hand in turn. “Steve Rogers. And obviously you know this is James Barnes. Bucky, mostly.”

 

Bucky stuck out his hand a little more reluctantly, but none of them seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn't seem to mind.

 

“Tony,” said Stark. “And you've met Pepper and this is James Rhodes – Rhodey.”

 

“Potts said you might be able to help me out,” Bucky grunted without preamble, attention zeroing in on Tony.

 

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded. “Maybe. I mean. Possibly.” He cleared his throat. “What do you need exactly?”

 

Steve drifted over to talk to Pepper and Rhodey while Bucky outlined his predicament to Tony. “The grip strength is more than human, I know,” he finished up. “But I couldn't quite get the fingers to curl right to hold the damn pole without the added strength.”

 

He held the metal hand out, flexing and relaxing the fingers.

 

Tony let out a long breath. “It really is a work of art,” he said, clearly in awe.

 

Bucky shrugged. “Not really. It's a tool. I needed an arm, so I found a way to get one.”

 

Tony's eyes flickered up to Bucky's and a grin curled his mouth. Bucky found himself smiling back even if it wasn’t as enthusiastic. There was something infectious about it.

 

“Stubbornness has it's benefits,” Tony said.

 

Bucky snorted. “I guess you could say that.”

 

Tony gestured with one hand and Bucky held out the arm to him, watching quietly as Tony hefted the weight in his own hands, flexed the finger joints and rotated the wrist. “I'll have to get inside,” he said eventually.

 

Bucky shifted his weight. “I'll show you the schematics first,” he said firmly. “And you can tell me how you plan on doing... whatever you're gonna do. I can't just let you go poking around in there.”

 

“I'm very good at poking, though,” Tony said.

 

A laugh barked from Bucky quite unexpectedly. He was surprised at it himself. He tried to pass it off as a clearing of his throat, but he didn't think Tony was fooled, if the smirk he threw was anything to go by. “Don't care how good you are,” he said, trying to recover. “It's not just a piece of machinery.”

 

More seriously, Tony nodded. “Fair call. Bring 'em tomorrow after classes. We'll have a look-see.”

 

Bucky nodded, folding his arms. “Not that I don't appreciate it, but what's in it for you?”

 

“In it for me?” Tony echoed, peering at him.

 

“Yeah. What do you want?”

 

“From you? Nothing. What could I want?”

 

Bucky shrugged. “Why would you help a total stranger?”

 

“Uh, because your arm is amazing and I'd give mine to work on it?” Tony said like it was a no-brainer. Maybe it was to him, but it was surprising to Bucky. It was rarely, if ever, that anyone did anything for him for nothing. He must have looked suspicious because Tony went on; “Seriously. What could I want? I'm rich, if you didn't know, popular, handsome, amazing-”

 

“Arrogant,” Pepper cut in. “Boorish, ill-mannered, _arrogant_...”

 

“Gee, thanks, Pep. I love your little inspirational talks,” Tony said dryly.

 

Bucky found himself grinning again. “Noted. Thank you, Potts,” he said, winking at her. Then he looked back to Tony. “Back here tomorrow?”

 

“I'll be here. I'm almost always here,” he said. “It's a little sad, really.”

 

“So sad. It's pathetic,” Rhodey put in.

 

“Can you two stop helping, please? I can make an idiot of myself without help, thanks very much.”

 

“You didn't make an idiot of yourself,” Bucky reassured him. “You were very restrained.”

 

“Thank you. You can stay. Them? They can go.”

 

They didn't, of course, but Bucky and Steve left, the former with a much brighter spring in his step than when they'd walked down here.

 

“There, see? Not so bad, was it?” Steve said.

 

“Awful,” Bucky said, but a grin tugged at his lips.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

The next day, Bucky met with Tony much more enthusiastically. It was just the two of them, which they both preferred. It was easier to concentrate that way.

 

Bucky had his arm stretched out on a workbench, opened up so Tony could investigate the inner workings. Some kind of heavy metal was playing, but Tony had turned it down a fair way when he arrived. He kept looking between the open arm and the schematics on his tablet, muttering to himself. It was almost as if Bucky wasn't there, which he didn't really mind. His flesh hand tapped an idle beat along with the music.

 

“So,” Tony said eventually. “We need to lower the grip-strength and the weight-bearing in this thing in order for the Dean to let you compete?”

 

“Well,” Bucky said with a sigh. “At least to give me arguing room. Technically speaking I suppose it'll always be an 'enhancement',” the word dripped with sarcasm. “Because it's never going to have the same frailties as a human arm.”

 

“Eh, I don't know about that,” Tony said. “The way you've wired it is pretty close. I mean, you say you know nothing – or, well, very little – about the human side of it all, but I think you've... uh... absorbed? Yeah that works. Absorbed more than you realise.”

 

“Like an amoeba?” Bucky said, mouth twitching.

 

“Ah, there's hope for you yet,” Tony chuckled.

 

The twitch turned into a grin. “I suppose I had to read a fair bit to get the thing to work.”

 

Tony nodded. “The way you've wired it is quite close to the real nervous system in the human arm. And your hydraulics push and pull the same way and in the same places as muscle and tendons which-” He cut himself off. Once again his thoughts had almost run off with his mouth before they bothered to check with his brain-to-mouth filter, something along the lines of 'which you have _plenty_ of'.

 

Bucky glanced up at him. “Hm?”

 

“Nothing.” Tony coughed a bit. “I see your problem. I get why the grip-strength is necessary to hold the pole. Maybe we could put something on the metal to make it more... grippy?”

 

Bucky grunted. “He'd probably call that an 'enhancement' too.”

 

Tony made a 'hmph' sound, but nodded his agreement. He was actually a little distracted by Bucky's flesh arm which was bared by the singlet he had chosen to wear. Bucky's athletic conditioning was easy to see.

 

He didn't let himself think about it too much, because if he did he would probably start outrageously flirting and he didn't think Bucky would appreciate that. What he _did_ seem to appreciate were Tony's comments and suggestions. The frostiness he seemed to wear like armour was melting away with each moment that passed where Tony didn't fawn over him. Mind you it was hard not to fawn over him, if the truth be told.

 

They worked long into the evening, until Tony had to turn the lights on and the cleaner came to check if one of them had keys. As it turned out, they both did.

 

“We're just that special,” Bucky said, grinning.

 

“We make the place money – of course we are.”

 

Bucky laughed and it seemed to Tony it was a rare sound, which saddened him. Bucky should laugh more often. He was glad Pepper had struck this up, if it would help him cheer Bucky up.

 

Wow, he was further gone than he realised, he thought as he leaned close to Bucky, talking through a schematic he'd fiddled with on his tablet. His eyes kept flickering to the athlete's face, focused largely on his lips as he talked, bouncing ideas and formulating ideas with him.

 

He'd always said it was about the arm, but they'd all known it was probably more than that. Being this close to Bucky, Tony could see every shift and flex of toned muscle, smell his skin. Moreover, he was very intelligent. Of course Tony had known he must be, to create the arm, but knowing it and experiencing it were two different things.

 

When Bucky looked at the clock and announced he had to go, Tony was disappointed, but he didn't let on. It _was_ late and Bucky explained he had practise in the morning. “Maybe I'll see you there,” he said as he made for the door, then seemed surprised at his own words. “I mean. To see how the arm functions.”  
  
“Right,” Tony replied, a grin broad on his face. “Sure, I'll be there.”

 

Bucky's smile, while not as over-the-top, met his. “Great.”

 

Tony went with him to the door out of the workshop and clapped his shoulder in farewell. He hadn't noticed, but it was the injured one. At least, he hadn't noticed until Bucky looked at him, his eyes wide with surprise. Suddenly Tony wondered if it had been a presumption he hadn't been aware of. Maybe Bucky didn't like to be touched there or maybe it hurt him.

 

“I'm-” he started to say, but suddenly Bucky's mouth was on his, hungry and eager. Tony squeaked in surprise and it took him a few moments to figure out what was going on. Long enough that Bucky drew back.

 

“Sorry,” he was already saying, dragging his flesh hand through his hair and taking a stumbling step back. “I thought-”

 

“Oh, you thought right,” Tony was hasty to say. “I was just... surprised...”

 

Bucky pressed his lips together for a moment, then; “Me too.”

 

Tony's grin returned and Bucky couldn't resist it. His mouth captured Tony's again, his metal hand pressing to the small of Tony's back and hitching him in closer. Before either of them had really thought about what was going on, they'd peeled each other's shirts off and Bucky lifted Tony onto a bench, his hands curled around his thighs so he could ease between them.

 

“Um. I don't usually...” Tony said, trailing off when Bucky's mouth meandered down his throat. He tipped his head back, letting out a heated sigh.

 

“Me either,” Bucky promised. “It's okay. I'll still respect you in the morning.”

 

Tony huffed out a laugh, his back arching when Bucky pressed his palm to the front of his pants, rubbing in small circles. “It's already morning,” he pointed out breathlessly, since they'd been there well into the night.

 

“Huh,” Bucky said against his shoulder. “And I respect you. Look at that.” He dropped his head, mouthing at Tony's chest, finding his nipple and lapping teasingly at it.

 

Tony swore, his hand coming to the back of Bucky's head.

 

After a few moments, Bucky shifted his grip, undoing Tony's pants and getting his hand inside, fingers curling around Tony's flesh. His hips twitched, back arching further yet.

 

Bucky hummed lowly and Tony smoothed a hand down his spine and back up again, almost massaging as the athlete slowly stroked him.

 

Now both of Tony's hands pressed down Bucky's spine to the small of his back, pulling him insistently closer. He brought one hand around to undo Bucky's pants in turn, drawing him free of them. He thumbed the tip, making Bucky's hips twitch and a hitched moan catch in his throat.

 

“C'mere,” Tony said breathlessly, impatiently. He pulled Bucky closer still, reaching into his own pants and brushing Bucky's hand away for the moment. He pressed them together then reached for the metal arm instead of the flesh one, urging Bucky to wrap his fingers around them both.

 

“Fuck,” Bucky said, hips jerking, muscles tense with the effort of remaining still.

 

“Mmhm, that's sort of the general idea,” Tony whispered, spreading his legs further and once again putting his hands to Bucky's hips. He used them to encourage movement from those hips. “C'mon.”

 

Bucky didn't need much encouragement, though Tony's demanding hands on his hips certainly drove him to greater effort. He rocked against Tony, his free hand against the bench, delivering them both a delicious friction that soon had them moaning and gasping.

 

Tony leaned back, one hand bracing against the workbench while the other still clamped at Bucky's hip as though he were afraid he might stop moving. His lips parted on a moan and his hips rocked back against Bucky's in the smooth tunnel of the metal hand. He lifted his head, looking down the length of his own tensed body to see the silver fingers and almost came undone right there. As it was, he didn't last long. Soon enough he was bucking against the other man and he came, Bucky following not long after.

 

He flopped back on the bench, panting and sprawled inelegantly in Bucky's full view. Bucky didn't seem to mind. His arm trembled where he was holding himself up, but his eyes cast over Tony's languid form before he withdrew, letting out a long, shaky sigh.

 

Tony watched him through lidded eyes.

 

“So... um... see you tomorrow?” he said almost _shyly_ , which was too adorable.

 

Tony nodded eagerly, dragging himself into a sitting position and beginning to right his clothes. “Wouldn't be anywhere else,” he said.

 

Bucky grinned, really grinned. “Then my arm after?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, I'm gonna work on these plans tonight... after a shower...” Tony said.

 

The grin turned into a smirk. “Thanks for that visual,” he said slyly.

 

“Should join me sometime. In the shower, I mean.”

 

“Oh, I look forward to it,” Bucky said and leaned down to kiss Tony soundly before making for the door. “Sweet dreams...” Then he was gone, the sound of his boots disappearing up the hallway.

 

“How could they be anything but?” Tony wondered to himself and flopped back on the workbench with a huge grin.

 

_\- - - - - - -_

 

Pepper's phone lit blue in the darkness of her room and she slept on unawares.

 

_Pepper. You rock._

 


End file.
